I don’t know if I know you well.
I try so hard it’s hard to tell.
I study you, I ask for more;
I pry behind the bolted door...
There they loom; your new ideas;
Inventiveness mixed well with fears
Funnelled through your brilliant eye.
And when I see them oft' I cry,
For where does that leave me?
I know you well, it seems, sometimes.
I’ve seen your pride, your love, your crimes,
I understand your reasons why.
But... sugar? in your tea??
Book of Feathers
As a fallen angel,
wings stripped of their feathers
by the demons from my mind’s hell
my strength slowly withers.
But I will rebuild my wings
with every new feather
adds a new page to the rings
that bind my book of leather.
This book of mine
tells the story of redemption
over the course of time
as I battle my depression.
The demons take my pen
and tell me to just stop trying,
to just give in
and get busy dying.
However I steal the pen back
before I can doubt
and numb myself black
to block them out.
This book of feathers is my mission
my scarred skin makes its bind
my blood of crimson iron inks its inscription
my bone makes its spine.
By finishing this book before I die
I hope these pages put together
will rebuild my wings and let me fly
so I can show all my book of feathers.
Alas my love has,
worn through years as,
I have loved another.
Was I to suffer?
“It gives you the ingredients, it’s up to you to make the recipe.”
(A quote from me about when something makes your mind come up with its own fears. I did research and so far I've found that this isn't a qoute by anyone else so I'm claiming it)
Some Monsters Aren’t In The Closet
I didn't want to tell
but the words just left
there was time for a breath
before being told
I'm full of shit
my parents aren't sold
that bisexuality even exists
they live in black and white
where people are only straight or gay
a spectum is not in their sight
and they don't care what I say
my mom cried for someone to arrest me
that I should be in jail for very long
screaming about hoping a woman in prison would rape me
so that I could see how I was wrong
I cried and cried
knees pressed to my chest
regreting stopping the lies
panic making my heart race under my left breast
I tried to cut myself after they left the room
and cried till there was no more tears to shed
weeks pasted and tense fear still seemed to loom
their words still echo in my head
I'm open about my bisexuality
to my accepting friends and peers
but I regret coming out to my family
as what happened I told you here
I'm not saying to hide who you are
just know who you tell
and that you can trust them with your heart
so you don't have to go through hell
some people are lucky
and when they first come out
their experience isn't as rocky
and people have no doubt
this safe and close community
we can all trust eachother
be proud of our sexualities
and love one another
Worst Names EVER
Here are some 100%, totally bad boy names.
Seriously. They're terrible.
Melchizedek Raylyn Ophera
Azariah Jarius Lewis Shawn George
De'monte Herrington Hayden Short
Over head Over heard
... Parked under fascia ...
we Cuckoos will weave
.. your words and debris ..
She Needs A Kiss
She needs a kiss
I've watched her for over an hour
She looks lonely
Sipping a coffee at a corner table
We caught eyes a few times
She looks like she could use a kiss
Her ruby lips make my stomach growl
But we are strangers
But i didn't care!
She was my current hunger
Just to feel a strangers kiss
Encroaching on this desire
Taking my last sip of coffee
My eyes were ready
Locked into hers
As she looked at me approaching her
Like she read my signals
Gently i cupped her face
Our lips slowly touch
Into an inferno of desire
Tongue strangling pleasure
It felt right
A beautiful face
An embraced marathon of desire
Seperating our lips
Rapid heart beats flutter
Eyes stuck in a trance
I get up
Staggering to the door
Opening it into the brisk night
The door closes
With bells jingling on the glass
K.j.a. (c) 2017
If you were a book or perhaps a series of books
I tried to read you like a novel.
I've gotten halfway through
But it's taken over a year
And I've forgotten the beginning
And I want to pick you off the shelf
And read you again.
Your level was too high.
I couldn't comprehend you if I tried.
I failed the test on you & I want another chance & I don't want to read anymore books until I'm finished with you.
Or maybe you are just too much.
I haven't gotten to the part that will make me cry
but I feel like it's coming up soon.
Looking Around the Corner*
The other morning
that there was
in the simple act
of looking around a corner.
She was speaking
about looking ahead
and glancing back
and knowing that
what we can’t see yet
we will or may see soon,
And what we’ve seen before
will change once we’ve turned a corner
and walked away.
This is simple
all at once,
Just as what we might
around any corner
*Graphic image a fragment from an original painting by Dragana Skrepnik, Tucson AZ, used as the cover of my e-book Huge House available at: